In the Foxhole
by asilversamaurai
Summary: Ghosts from the past wander freely in the Wasteland. A girl named Fox is on a personal mission to save to world and could use and little help from someone mad.
1. Chapter 1

(I do not own Mad Max or any of the characters/story related to it.)

Chapter 1

Heat. In this world, this Wasteland there was nothing but heat. Fox licked her lips. In this hot and thirsty desert her lips were always cracked and bleeding. She wished for water, the thought of it making her body ache with want. Fox knew it was no good to think about things you want and couldn't have, it's thoughts like that that drive you mad; and she had more pressing matters at hand.

Standing up squinting against the unrelenting sun, she pulled her goggles over her eyes and a scarf over her mouth. She knew those clouds in the distance, knew the implications of wall of sand approaching. Her stomach muscles clench with fear as she through a look over her shoulder. The big black rig she stole sat out in the open of the sand for all to see. Fox growled to herself. She wished she was as gifted with machines as some of the others were. If Gear were here she would have that big rig up and running in no time, but Gear was not here and she was alone in this Wasteland. Fox shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. 'Don't waste thoughts on things you want, but can't have' she thought to herself. Night was coming and with it a sandstorm, and she had a truck full of cargo and some very angry men on her tail.

Scanning the horizon she found her first ray of hope. Out in the distance were giant pillars of rock, 'they would provide cover at least, maybe, if I'm lucking a cave big enough for everything'. She squinted against the sun again, trying to judge the distance. Could she make it there in time with the cargo in tow? She wasn't sure; the long flat sand did strange things to your perception of sight. She shook her head again, a nervous tick she developed over the years in the Wasteland. Throwing another look towards the encroaching sand wall, she turned toward the ruined rig and started to run, Fox had made her up her mind.

As she walked the sound of water filled her mind, the sounds of rivers and something larger and salty that she barley remembered. Her face was hot and her breathing was labored. She imagined cool water running over her limbs and face, imagined what it would feel like on her tongue. She shook her head. Looking behind her she saw many pairs of feet shuffling at a slow pace. Anxiety filled her, they were going too slow. If she was judging the distance correctly they had about thirty more minutes before they reached the rock. "We must hurry," she yelled for the thousandth time. Groans filled her good ear in response, the sounds soft sobbing tugged at her heart. She wondered if she made the right decision. Fox and her companions had planned this heist for weeks, she could only imagine what Gear will say when she finds out what Fox did. They had studied the moves of the slavers for weeks; tried to anticipate every move, have an answer for every situation. But Mother Earth had different ideas. Fox had waited in position like she was meant to, but two days before they planned to strike a sand storm hit. The slavers had scrambled when they saw the wall of sand approaching. What Fox haven't counted on was that they would have a buyer lined up so quickly. She knew that if she allowed these children to be sold, they would be lost to her forever. So Fox did the only thing she could think to do. Two full days before they planned, and with no backup in sight Fox struck.

The rig she stole had only made it about half of a day before it stopped and wouldn't go again. The sand wall and slavers at her back she had no choice but to move forward. Only another day and her backup would arrive. They would only have to make it a day. Fox closed her eyes and listened to the sound of chains clicking together. Images flashed in her mind and when she looked down she saw metal cuffs on her own wrists. She shook her head and looked again, they were gone.

They slowed as they reached the end of the rock pillar. Fox stopped, the hairs in the back of her neck stood up. Suddenly she fell to the ground, pulling the children down with her. Someone was out there, Fox could feel it. Pulling her goggles up over her eyes she studied the rocks carefully, eyes straining to see any movement. She pulled herself up into a seated position "you all need to stay here, I will be back in a little bit." As she went to stand she felt many pairs of small hands pulling her down. "You promised not to leave us. If you go the bad men will come." Said the little boy with the missing arm. Fox shook her head, and shushed them best she could. "You must all stay here, out of sight. If I do not come back stay here and my friends will come after the next sunrise." She turned toward the boy with the missing arm, "what is your name?" The boy looked confused for a moment, "they called me 23." Fox winced. "Do you know how to whistle 23?" The boy nodded. "Show me." She encouraged, and smiled in satisfaction when she heard him. "My friends will know to come to you if you know a secret whistle, I will teach it to you and you must remember to do it right. Can you do that?" The little boy nodded and Fox showed him the whistle and mad him practice it until she was satisfied. She scanned the faces of the nine children in front of her, commuting each to memory. "You must remain out of sight, and I will come back for you." Fox said as a farewell. She stood up tall and scanned the horizon once more before tasking off toward the rocks.

She slowed down as she approached. Scanning the sand she looked for any sign that anyone was near. The rocks were out of the way, and provided good cover from sand storms, there was a good chance that someone had claimed them already. She walked quickly and quietly, straining with her good ear for any noise she could head. It was deathly quite. As she walked into the shadow of the tall pillars of rock, she saw something that made her heart freeze. Tire tracks. The breeze had blown them again in the sand, but they were faint still in the silt in the small canyon that the rocks formed around. Dropping to her knees she ran her fingers over the tracks. It was hard to tell how long ago they had been made, but it looked to only be one vehicle. She looked around, scanning the tall rocky pecks that surrounded her. An eery feeling filled her and she felt like she was being watched. She shook her head and pressed head. If someone was here they poised a threat to her and the children. She took off her jacket and drug it on the ground behind her to cover her foot prints. She looked around and found a rocky ledge the could easily climb up to that offered a bit of concealment. Once safely on top she drew her gun, and check the chamber. Only one bullet left. She settle in and cocked her gun, and waited.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two: Max

I haven't really spent a whole lot of time editing since I really wanted to get this uploaded, so please forgive any typos/mistakes. Thanks for reading!

(I do not own Mad Max or any characters/story related to it)

Max woke in a fit, visions from his nightmare still clouding his mind. It seemed that every morning he woke the same way. The feeling of a thousand pairs of hands pulling him toward the floor, a thousand voices all calling his name. "Max! max! max!" He grumbled as he stood up, trying to shake the sleep from his eyes. He looked around the small cave he now called home. All in all he had been pretty lucky finding this spot, it provided good cover from storms and heat, and was just large enough for him and his vehicle to fit. Spotting his vehicle, his stomach rumbled. So far he had been pretty lucky with food, he scavenged what he could from the dusty rocks, the bag of dried rations he got before leaving the citadel mostly untouched. Still, lizards and bugs were not quite as appetizing as the dried brown bars of food stuff currently stashed in his car. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He needed to save that for when he was on the road again.

Oh, the open road. Max is not sure how long it was been since the citadel, no way of knowing except of the sunrises, which all blur together in his mind. Furiosa might have found her redemption, but he was still looking for his. Each day slipped by and each day he was less and less sure he would ever find it. Out in the vast of the Wasteland there was nothing to buffer him from the voices of the death, no way to separate reality from his nightmares.

He had driven for miles and miles until he could drive no more. When the small needle pointed to empty and the last drop of guzzoline was gone from the canisters, when the endless loop of the desert wore on his mind he pulled over into a canyon of rock. Max searched until he found this cave. The size and location where good, but what truly was a miracle was the small dripping sound from the back of the cave. Max'a throat constricted at the sound of it. He approached it with caution, believing what he heard was too good to be true, some cruel trick played on him by his deranged mind . But when he knelt down by the small opening and ran his hand under the small stream coming from the rocks, he knew it was real. Water. He had found water. He had taken an experimental sip, and found it to be cool and clean. He thrust his head under the small stream and drank until he thought his stomach might explode. Thoughts crossed his mind while he drank. When he was driving the war rig one of the girls had said the citadel got its water from deep in the earth. Pure and clean it was, just like this water. It must be following in the rocks somewhere, just a small amount seeping from the rocks into this cave. It made Max wonder how much clean water there might still be in the earth.

Each morning was the same for Max. He would wake up, eat what little food he could fine, wash his face and drink his fill, then he would grab his pack and rifle and head towards the mouth of the canyon. Once there, he would position himself on one of the rock shelves out of sight, his rifle at the ready. After that, it was a waiting game. What Max needed was juice. He had gotten lucky in the past, trading services for supplies, but times like these were different. He would have to take what he needed. All he could hope for was someone would pass by close enough to the canyons edge, close enough to be in range of his rifle.

He would wait on that rock for hours, the hot sun beating down on him. When the sun would set and the moon would come out, bathing the desert in a cool light he would return to his cave. After drinking his fill of water he would try to fall into a fitful sleep. He would get a few hours if he was lucky, then he would wake up with the sunrise and the day would start again.

This morning was different. When Max stumbled to the mouth of the cave he knew it was late in the day. Squinting against the sun he stretching his stiff leg. When was the last time he had slept to late morning? He couldn't remember. He closed his eyes for a moment and listened carefully. Silence greeted him and he grabbed his bag and gun and started his morning walk to the mouth of the canyon.

He went cautiously, though he heard no sounds but for his own footsteps echoing off of the canyon walls. Stopping suddenly Max lifted his head to survey the rocks above him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and suddenly he felt a thousand pairs if eyes on him, though he could tell if they were real or imagined.

Suddenly he saw her, the little girl that haunted his dreams. She jumped in front of him so suddenly he fell on his back. Before Max could comprehend what was going on a gun shot rang in his ears. Scrambling to his feet he readied his gun, eyeing a large rock close behind him he tried to maneuver behind it. Cover, he needed cover his mind screamed at him. Before he could move a large weight was thrown against him. He fell to the ground again, his lungs constricted in need for air and he grouped for his gun as it feel from his hands. Instinct kicked in and he threw a punch at the weight in top of him. He felt the weight slacken and took advantage of it by forcing this body up and rolling into a sitting position pinning the squirming body to the ground. He took a second to study the mess of wavy black hair under his arm. A glint caught his eye and he pried a gun from the person's hand. He cocked it back and pressed it to the back of the persons skull. "Stay still or I'll shoot." He said in a husky voice. The body underneath him stilled suddenly, Max grunted in response. He felt a strong jerk under him and his finger instinctively pulled the trigger, an empty click filled his ears. The body twisted from under him and his eyes meet with familiar eyes, but his mind could only see the face of that little girl calling his name. "Max? Max! Max!" A far away voice yell in his ear. He flung out and felt his fist connect with something solid. His mind was clouded with thoughts and images that raced through his head and he tried to see past them to reality, but he couldn't. 'This is how I die' he thought to himself, and he couldn't deny the wave to relief that flooded through his body. The Wasteland had beaten him, now he was truly mad. He heard his name called again, but not in that child's voice. He squinted his eyes. He was on his back now, the weight of someone on top of him, but he couldn't remember how he got there. "Max!" The voice was screaming at him now, and he squinted through the visions, trying to figure out what was real and what was not. He felt drops of warm liquid drop on his face. His eyes opened and his vision cleared. And he saw the face of the dead.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Meeting.

(I do not own Mad Max or any characters/story related to it)

Fox waited on the rocky ledge for a few hours growing restless. The more she studied the ground, the more she was sure someone was living in these rocks. The faces of the children filled her mind. She tried to shut her eyes against it, feeling her resolve harden. She was no killer. But between the children she had freed from the slaves and some stranger she knew instantly who she would choose.

She shook her head. Straining with her good ear she listened for any sound she could make out. Silence greeted her. The sand storm was not far off now, and she had to find shelter for her and the children, then she would deal with the slavers. She figured she probably only had a few hours left to find a safe spot. Should she risk it and bring the children here when there could be a potential risk hiding in one of the caves? She didn't trust people anymore, as water and food grew rare, and the strong prayed on the weak, there were few decent people left in the world. This stranger could kill them all, or worse. Her wrists began to tingle where the metal that use to be strapped to her had scarred her flesh. She had known worse, the children she freed had known worse and she would not let that happen to any of them again.

If she failed to find shelter though the sandstorm would surely kill them. Those who might survive it would be easy targets for the slaves once they regrouped enough to come looking. Fox hesitated.

Just as she made up her mind to go and get the children, a sound touched her ear. It seemed soft and far off and she couldn't even be sure that she heard it. She strained to hear it a second time. Seconds passed, and suddenly the sound rang clear in the late morning air. She knew that sound. It was the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

Fox flattened her body to the rock as much as she could. She reminded herself she only had one bullet, one chance. Her breathing slowed and she willed her heart rate down. Fox was a pretty decent shot, not at good as some of the others in her group, but from this distance and vantage point there was no way she could miss.

A few tense minutes later a figure came into view. As it came closer Fox determined it was a man, and a fairly good size of one at that. She studied him for a moment. He carried a pack in his back, his clothes worn and covered with dust, his lower face was covered with a scarf. But what really caught her interest was the rifle he carried in his hands. The faces of the children flashed in her mind as she readied her gun. One shot, she reminded herself.

She aimed for his head, telling herself that no one was innocent in this world anymore. The mans head plainly in sight, she saw him stop suddenly. Fox held her breath as she saw him survey the rocks above. Her heart rate quickened, in another second he would see her. She felt her finger squeeze the trigger.

The man flung himself backwards and for a brief moment she thought her bullet had found its mark. The gunshot rang in her good ear and she studied him for a slit second, realizing that there was no blood. She growled to herself. She had missed.

Without a second thought Fox flung herself off of the cliff and onto the man who was now standing. There body's collided with a fierce impact, leaving both of them breathless. Fox kicked his rifle out of reach and tried to hold him down with her body weight. Before she could duck, a fist connected with her cheek in a heavy blow. Pain blossomed in her face, and she felt something warm run down her cheek. Momentarily stunned she felt the man twist under her forcing her to the ground, her face pressed roughly into the sand. Fox squirmed against the weight that held her down but no matter how hard she moved she could not loosen the weight holding her down. The gun she held was pried from her hand and she felt the cold bite of metal against the back of her head. She gave a little smile, knowing the the gun was empty. "Stay still, or I'll shoot." The husky voice rasped in her ear.

Fox's blood ran icy cold. She knew that voice. A voice from deep in her past when her world was iron and blood. When all she wanted in the world was to save one little girl. When she was not Fox, but the girl who was known as 11. She swallowed thickly. Instinct kicked in, and she felt a new rush of adrenaline in her veins filling her with strength. She gave a hard push against the ground twisting her body with a yell. The empty sound of a gun click sounded against her head as she twisted up to a crouching position. Their eyes meet and her thoughts were confirmed.

There standing in front of her was Max Rockatansky.

His eyes were wild and unfocused. Fox screamed his name at him, "Max?" He didn't look at her anymore, his eyes were off in the distance, seeing something that she could not see. Her stomach constricted. This was not the same man she meet all those years ago. "Max! Max!" She yelled grabbing his shoulders and pushing him down to the ground. She saw her blood drip on his face, saw his wild unfocused eyes looking everywhere but at her. She felt tears sting her eyes.

Suddenly he seemed to calm. She felt his erratic breathing become stable, and his eyes slowly met hers. To her relief she saw recognition reflecting in his dilated pupils. His hand reached up very slowly and grazed her undamaged cheek. "Fox?" He whispered her name. Fox, it was the name that he had given her she remembered. It sounded strange to hear it spoken in his gravely voice. It felt dangerously like coming home.

She could see him struggling accepting that she was really there. She saw him shut his eyes, shake his head, saw the rush of emotions that crossed his eyes when he opened them again. He stilled under her, and gently touched her cheek again. "You were dead." She whispered, almost to herself. Fox couldn't help but smile through the tears that were now streaming down her face. "It takes more then a few shit-for-brain slavers to take me down." She had half joked, but the look in Max's eyes were no joke. "I thought you were dead." He said again.

The distant sound of thunder brought her back to her senses. She nimbly jumped off of Max, offering a hand to help him up. He was still looking at her like she might disappear at any moment. The thought that perhaps he ha seen her before when she was not really there crossed her mind, making her heart constrict. "Max, I need your help." She heard herself say.

Max saw the desperate look in her eyes and heard himself grunt. She looked the same as she had, though maybe a little more worn. She had the same wavy dark hair that ended at her shoulders. Same pale skin. Her one green eye and one brown eye where the same, and the scar that ran down the left side of her face hadn't changed with the years. Yet Max knew there was something different about her. The way she held herself was a long cry from the girl he knew all those years ago. What was once small and timid, was now strong and tall. He couldn't help but think that maybe they had switched roles in that way.

He felt her grab his hand, and he looked in her eyes and knew he would do anything to help her, he owed her that much. "Up past the canyon ridge I have some people waiting. A sand storm is coming and we need to find shelter soon." Max grunted in response. Fox took that as a yes.

Still holding his hand Fox took off down the canyon toward the children. A strange thought crossed her mind. This all felt too surreal. Maybe she had really died in that fight with the stranger and this was all just a hallucination. How else could she explain finding Max out here after searching for him all of those years? She shook her head, this was not the time for such thoughts. She checked behind her just in case, and found Max still there jogging behind her.

As they ran she told him the quick version of what had happened with the slavers and how she had ended up in the canyon. Max asked no questions, made no sounds by the occasional grunt. She would have thought he wasn't paying attention if it weren't for his wild eyes that were trained on her every time she looked behind her. "We need a safe place, do you know of any?"she saw him shake his head yes. Max was never a man of many words. They burst out if the mouth of the canyon and were greeted with a solid wall of sand and wind. Fox swallowed thickly. She hoped she wasn't too late.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: History.

(I do not own Mad Max or any characters/story related to it.)

A girl with no name sat on the ground by a mound of fresh earth. She sat with her legs crossed, eyes trained on the two pieces of wood that had been nailed together to make a "t" shape. She had asked her father what that symbol meant, but he didn't say anything. Her father never really talked anymore.

The girl stood up, wiping the dirt loose from her pants. Looking at the sky she figured it was around dinner time. She knew that if she did not make dinner that her and her sister would go without food. Her father didn't really eat anymore, not since they put mother in that hole in the ground.

As the girl made her way the small bus that they had fashioned into a house, she heard the sounds of a angry voices coming from inside. She crept up quietly under the open window and listened carefully. She could only hear parts of the conversation, but it sounded like father as talking to the town elder. Her stomach tightened with anxiety.

"Listen, we have all lost people, we know how hard it is, but this community does not work if everyone does not pitch in."

Her fathers response was too soft to make out.

"The only reason I haven't said anything earlier was because of those girls but now..."

Her father must have interrupted, because she could make out his soft grumbling.

"Do as you will, but times are hard and we can't give food and supplies to people who don't give back..."

The girls heart raced. Were they going to be kicked out? She had never been outside the confines of their small community. She and her sister were born here, their mother worked as a healer and mechanic when she was alive, her father helped make guzzoline. They couldn't kick them out, not after all this time.

The girls feet had a mind of their own and she found herself throwing open the door of their bus. She must have startled them because both men jumped at her entrance.

"I will work."

They looked dumbly at her. The town elders face softened as he looked at her.

"I will work so that we can stay."

The elder gave her a gentle smile,

"You are too young to work in the refinery. I'm sorry but I would not allow it."

She felt her face flush with anger. They wanted work, but didn't accept her help.

"There is other things I can do, mother taught me healing and..."

She jumped as her father slammed his hand down on the table. She knew she wasn't suppose to talk about her mother, and she would probably pay for later by the look in his eyes.

"I don't need some child to fight my battles for me." he growled. She felt herself shrink under his gaze.

"Leave."

She thought to argue but the look on his face said otherwise. The girl quickly ducked into the back of the bus that they used for sleeping and grabbed her sister by the wrist leading her outside. They would have to forage for bugs tonight if they wanted food. She stuck her tongue out at the thought.

The next morning the girl work up to the feeling of movement. She realized through her haze of sleep that they were driving somewhere. The bus lurched up suddenly causing her face to collide with the wall. Pain blossomed in her face as she lightly touched her cheek. It felt large and warm under her fingers, she was sure it was a dark color. Father was very angry last night.

The girl check on her sister and found she was still sleeping soundly. She quietly made her way to the front where she found her father sitting at the wheel looking very stern. She swallowed thickly.

"It's better this way." He said suddenly, causing her to jump, she didn't think that he saw her.

"Goodbyes bring nothing but pain." She saw his finger tighten around the wheel until his knuckles where white. Wordlessly she made her way back to where her sister slept, tears stinging her eyes. That community was all she had ever known, the only friends she ever had. Her stomach rolled with fear. She had heard story's of the people who lived outside of the community. She hoped they were going somewhere safe.

She woke again later without realizing she had fallen asleep, her face sticky with tears. The bus had stopped and she was alone in the back. She panicked, throwing the covers off and running towards the door. She burst outside into the cool desert air, the ground illuminated in a soft light. She saw her father and sister sitting around a fire eating food out of a can. Her stomach rumbled, it had been a long time since they had food that good.

"Hey sleepy head, come on over and get some food."

She blinked. Had her father gone crazy? They had told her story's of the Wasteland making people crazy. She must have given him a strange look, because he only laughed and patted the ground next to him. She sat on the ground slowly and he thrust an open can into her hands. She was afraid suddenly, why was her father being so nice? He was even playing with her sister, she watched as get sister giggled with delight as her father ticked her. As the night went on, the girl began to relax. Maybe the worst over.

As the moon dipped low in the sky and the only sounds were the soft snoring of her sister, her fathers mood changed. She noticed him looking over his shoulder a lot, fidgeting with his hands too much. She heard him clear his throat.

"I know I haven't been the best father..." He began, his voice shaky.

"I never wanted kids, you know. It was always your mothers idea." The girl winced at the mention, good things never happened when her mother was mentioned.

"Do you know why she died?" He said in a whisper. The girl shook her head 'no' even though she knew perfectly well how her mother had died.

"She was beautiful and good. And this world with eat anything that is beautiful and good. If I have never learned anything from me before, hear this now. Be afraid of beauty, and don't trust anyone." Hatred formed in her heart like a shiny stone at those words. How could he be so weak? Why must he take everything they have that is good and ruin it? Her fists clenched. He wasn't looking at her though, his gaze was far off into the distance.

"Go to sleep." He ordered suddenly. The girl got up and lifted her sleeping sister out if his arms. She went inside and laid her sister down. She followed suit and pulled the scratchy blanket over her head. She knew she would not sleep tonight.

She listened to the sounds of the desert as the sun crept into their window and bus started to warm. The girl had stayed awake all night, for fear of what she did not know. Suddenly the sounds of engines filled the bus. She jumped out of bed and hurried to the window, peeling back the curtain to see outside. She saw her father talking with three men. The look of them made her very uneasy. They were large and rough looking, each dressed in a brown leather she could not identify, but somehow made her stomach tighten. It was not the same texture as other leather she had known. The men and her father talked for a bit. They shook hands, then she saw them turn their attention towards the bus. Her heart raced.

She quickly ran to her sister who was still sleeping soundly. The girl shook her awake, thinking that maybe she could hide her, that if whatever they wanted she could give to them, then maybe they would leave her small sister alone. As she was pulling her from the bed the front door to their bus flung open. The men causally picked both her and the child wordlessly, as if they light was a feather. The girl struggled and screamed, called them every curse word she had heard anyone ever say. The sounds of her sisters sobbing rang in her ears. Instinct kicked in and she bit down hard in the mans arm until her mouth was full of blood. His steps never faltered.

The last time the girl ever saw her father he looked her right in her eyes. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he had been crying and he mouthed the word 'sorry' over and over. Then a bag was pulled over her head and she was thrown carelessly into the back of a vehicle and her world was darkness from then on.

Fox and Max burst onto the plains. The wind was ranging, the encroaching wall of sand only minutes away now. Fox desperately started searching for the children. She tried yelling, she tried whistling but her voice died on the savage wind. The landscape had changed, the storm molding the sand into new shapes. She ran frantically, screaming at the top of her lungs, though she knew it was no use.

Suddenly she saw a flash of metal. Fox took off running, Max right in her heels. As she neared, she saw more movement and relief flooded her. They had found them. She saw Max's eyes grow big with concern when he saw the nine children huddled together, shielding their eyes from sand. Fox didn't stop running until she was right on top of them. She fell to her knees, trying to check each one for injury. To her relief, other then dehydration and exhaustion, there seemed to be no further injury.

A bolt of lighting cracked across the sky, followed by the deep rumble of thunder. Fox stood each of the children on their feet, noticing that three were either to weak or frightened to stand. She unceremoniously slung one of each of her shoulders. Max took the hint and grabbed the third. They ran.

Sand filled her eyes and mouth as the blindly made there way to the mouth of the canyon. She felt as if they had been running for hours, her legs cramped and her lungs burned with effort, though she knew it had only been a few minutes. She could feel the ground change under her as they hit the rocky floor of the canyon. She saw Max up ahead, the six children behind him, and she brought up the rear. She noticed as the jogged the stop where she had ambushed him. And through everything, she couldn't help the small smile on her lips.

They ran and ran, weaving there way through the canyon maze. The wind was still behind them, but the walls of the canyons provided good cover. Suddenly, Max stopped. He gestured to an opening in the rock about four feet of the ground. Without hesitation she started lifting the children into the cave. When it was just her and Max left below, she felt self conscious under his intense gaze.

"Max, I.."

"Talk later." He grunted, interrupting her. She simply nodded, then jumped up into the rock, pulling herself into the canyon. She could hear Max follow behind. Her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit canyon and she saw the children huddling together. They were eyeing Max with fear and suspicion.

"Don't worry, this man is a friend. He helped us escape, he won't hurt you." She looked at Max waiting for him to respond. His eyes were large and wild and he gave a gravely grunt in response. Fox gave him a dry look.

"I hate to ask this, but our water ran out a day ago." She certainly didn't want to take all of Max's supplies, but the gaunt faces and chapped lips of the children pushed her to ask. Max gave noise that sounded like 'hmmm' and gestured toward the back of the cave. Fox looked and saw the small stream of clear water coming from the rocks into a small pool. A big grin crossed her face. Before she could thinking she warped Max into a large hug.

"You saved us." She whispered to him.

Just as suddenly as he felt her around him, she was letting go. He hadn't felt another person that close to him in years, and he found himself missing the feeling when she let go. He watched carefully as she led the children one at a time to the small steam to drink their fill. He could see how her pupils dilated with want at the sight of the water, but she waited until each child was done before drinking any herself. Max waited near the mouth of the cave. The children still eyed him wearily, and he did not want to scare them by getting too close.

So he waited patently, watching Fox tend to each child. She checked them for injuries, and took large handfuls of sand to help scrub the dirt and blood from their skin. He watched her give each child get full attention, laying them down to sleep, wishing each one goodnight. Max realized then that he might not be the only one who saw the little girl from his past, only Fox saw her reflected in each of these children.

Max watched as she started to tend to her own injuries. He winched when he saw her wash the dried blood from her cheek where he had hit her.

"Sorry." He grumbled. Her head shot up, he had been so quit she almost forgot he was there. Almost.

"Don't worry about it, I did try to kill you." She said with a half hearted chuckle. When she finished washing up, she stood up and faced him.

"I guess we should have that talk now."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Trauma

(I don't own Mad Max or any charters/story related to it.)

There was no way to know how long they had been held here. The girl had a new name: 11. Everyone went by numbers here, at least all of the slaves did. It didn't take long for 11 to fall into a routine in the campsite she was now forced to call home. Since she had experience making guzzoline and knew a little bit about healing it didn't take long for them to put her to work. The slavers would keep a few of the people thy captured for themselves to do work needed around camp, the rest they would sell. 11 did everything she could to make herself useful so that her sister and her got to stay. Her captors were not kind by any means, but they were driven by business and she knew what to expect out of them. It was the uncertainly of having a new master that kept her up at night.

Today 11 was helping one if the old healers tend to a gun shot wound to the leg one of the slavers got in a deal gone bad. She carried a box of supplies to the small shack they had built to make the hospital. She absentmindedly scratched that her chest. The tattoo she had received her first night at camp never really healed right, leaving the skin raised and itchy. The sound of metal clicking around her wrists rang in her ears, a constant reminder of who she was.

Who was she? A slave girl who did the bidding of anyone who asked for fear of being sold off once she was found not to be useful. Her body had started to develop more, her curves becoming more defined, her muscles growing with the constant physical labor. She hated it. Her father's words burned into her mind, be afraid of beauty. She had asked the healer women if she could cut off her breasts, and the women laughter at her. 11 was serious though, she knew the two reasons people bought slaves: physical labor or pleasure. She had seen many girls and boys who were too beautiful for their own good be sold for that purpose. She now took to rubbing dirt on her and her sister face as much as she could. She would mess up their hair until it became knotted and dirty. Beauty was something to be afraid of.

When she reached the front door she fumble for a bit with the handle, trying to balance the supplies she was carrying. The door opened suddenly in her and she almost lost her balance. The old women appeared and snatched the supplies from her hands, tossing them haphazardly on the floor. She gave her a fearful look.

"I overheard some bad news from one of the whips today." They called the slavers whips when they were out of earshot, the mention made the long scars on her back itch.

"The Collector is coming tomorrow and he is fix'n to add to his personal collection." 11 had heard of this man, The Collector was cruel and his appetite for flesh was fierce. She had seen him once, for a brief moment. He was thin and boney, with small dark eyes. He was constantly dotting his mouth with a handkerchief, since he tended to drool a lot.

"What has this got to do with me?" 11 asked, her voice tight with fear. The old women gave her a sorry look.

"Overhear the boss man say you was about the right age now, he is gonna show you to The Collector tomorrow as a potential sale." 11 felt like she was going to vomit.

"What do I do? I can't leave my sister here alone." Her eyes were full of tears. She had worked so hard to prove her worth here. Was there nothing she could do? The old women beckoned her inside and sat her on a rickety table. 11 noticed the blood and bandages on the floor from the gunshot wound they had tended to earlier.

"What do I do? What do I do?" She was getting hysterical now, her hands shaking and she could stop babbling.

"Don't worry young thing, I've gotta a plan that just might work to help ya."

11 watched as the old women held up a shiny long knife. She swallowed thickly. Beauty was something to be feared, she reminded herself. 11 nodded, giving the women permission. She could feel and the blade touched her skin above her eyebrow.

"Ready?" The old lady asked. 11 nodded. She closed her eyes as she felt the metal bite down on her flesh, couldn't help scream that escaped her lips as she felt it drag down the length of her face. The Collector only collected things in mint condition.

11 sat on the rickety table, a cloth pressed to her face to stem the bleeding. She knew in her heart that they had only bought a small amount of time. Sooner or later someone would come along and not care about the scar on her face, and she would be forced labor, or worse. She wasn't sure what the old women had told the boss man, but she saw the distaste in his eyes when he looked at her. The next day The Collector came and looked right past 11. She could hear the screaming of the girls and boys he took. 11 had made up her mind right then and there. She and her sister would escape no matter what she had to do.

Fox followed Max to the mouth of the cave. She sat on the edge, letting her feet dangle, and patted the ground next to her. They sat in silence for a bit, the only noise being the soft snores of the children.

"You talk even less than you use too." Fox attempted to start the conversation, there was so much to talk about, where did they even start? Max grunted in return, causing Fox to smile. He pointed over his shoulder, "who are they?" Fox sighed deeply. He always like to get right to the point.

"They were like me when you found me, children who were captured and sold. The people who I travel with, we have been setting as many people as we could free, but with the sandstorm our plan had to be altered if we had any chance to save them. If I had let them be sold, they would have been lost to us, scattered throughout the Wasteland." Fox paused a moment to sneak a look at Max, his eyes still trained on her face.

"What you did was reckless, to go against them without backup." He grunted in response. She couldn't help but smile at his answer,

"Well, I learned from the best." Fox felt very nervous again, her hands constantly fidgeting in her lap. She shook her head.

"Max, I..." Her voice trailed off suddenly becoming thick with emotion. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him tilt his head like a dog, she smiled a little, he could always make her smile.

"I looked for you. I looked for many months for you. The hope that you and her were out here somewhere kept me going for a while. And even after..." She trailed off for a moment, swallowing down the lump in her throat, "I still looked for you. But as the mouths went on, and your trail had become cold, I knew I couldn't live my whole life chasing a shadow. I could only hope that luck would bring us together again." She touched his arm lightly, "and it did." It was Max's turn to get nervous. The mention of her brought flashes of that blue eyed child into his mind, and he felt grief swell in his heart. Fox must have noticed because she said, "I went back, you know. When I got free again and was healthy enough to go. I went back." She ducked her head looking solemn, her voice growing small, "I saw the grave you made her." She paused a moment, "you know I don't blame you." Max jerked violently, as if her touch suddenly grew painful. He stood up suddenly a hand on the back of his head, eyes looking everywhere but her.

"You should get some sleep." He said suddenly, dismissing her. Fox felt a heaviness in her heart, but she nodded and stood to head back into the cave.

"You should too, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." Max gave her a confused look, "us?" Fox studied him cooly, "My people and I are scheduled to meet tomorrow, and we have to come up with a plan to deal with the slavers. They are relentless and they will not let us go without a fight." Fox cleared her throat, looking a bit awkward, "and I would like you to come with me." The looked at each other, for what felt like minutes without saying a word. Finally Max cleared his throat, "get some sleep." Fox nodded and slowly made her way into the darkness of the cave.


End file.
